Sharpshot
by OneFan2RuleThemAll
Summary: Keira Crew had a successful career as a freelance assassin as Sharpshot until S.H.I.E.L.D. stepped in. Offered the choice of working for S.H.I.E.L.D. or living out her life in prison, she chooses the obvious best choice. If only she knew then what a thrilling tale of adventure, drama, and yes, a bit of romance, would come of that choice. (Pre-Iron Man thru Infinity War)
1. Prologue

I sucked in a deep breath as my scope focused on my target. He had absolutely no idea that that would be his last sip of wine he'd ever have. As I started to release the breath, I squeezed the trigger, sending the bullet flying through the air and straight into the man's chest. Chaos erupting in the building, but it was much too far away for me to hear it, save for a few particularly loud screams.

Satisfied, I swung my sniper rifle over my back as I slunk away from the scene, leaving no trace of my presence there. I'd made it halfway down the fire escape when I heard something whizzed toward me. I swung to the side, letting the arrow lodge itself in the wall beside me. Wait, _arrow?_ Confused, I turned and saw a figure standing on the corner of a building not too far away.

My eyes widened and I took off down the stairs, jumping over the railing and skipping a few levels every now and then. I heard feet landing on the metal a few stories above me. With a huff, I realized I had to dump my rifle. It didn't matter if I'd left a few finger prints on it, I was erased from every data base in the world. I let it fall over the side of the building, wincing as I heard it crash below.

The footsteps had caught up to me a bit more, so the second I hit the ground again I sprinted away, trying to be as unpredictable as I could. Turning down a shadowed alleyway, I found myself facing a brick wall at a dead end. "Oh shoot," I muttered, turning around as the figure appeared at the entrance of the alleyway.

Whoever it was had a bow drawn was cautiously approaching me. I only glared as I let him inch close enough for him to see my face. Then I lashed out, kicking his bow to the side with one swift movement. He was obviously surprised, but he didn't miss a beat as he blocked my punch and retaliated with one of his own.

I ducked under his punch and went to kick him in the groin – hit 'em where it hurts, I'd always been taught – but he caught my foot and sent me sailing backwards into the wall. I grunted as my back felt like it broke into a million pieces. The man hesitated for a split second at the sound of my back hitting the wall and it was the second I needed. I swung a purposefully slow punch, which he blocked easily. Grabbing his wrist, I twisted around him and pushed him from behind into the wall.

He took it with a grunt as I turned and sprinted down the alleyway. I'd almost turned the corner when I heard a _whiz_ and suddenly felt pain shooting through my right calf. I let out a cry and looked down to see an arrow going right into the back of my calf. Despite my training, I couldn't stop myself from sinking to the concrete, tears coming to my eyes from the pain. Blood ran down my leg, staining the thin gray pants I had on.

I heard the man's footsteps behind me, but I knew I'd been caught. There was no way I could run like this and it was likely he'd catch me if I didn't have a head start. Suddenly, I felt a needle prick my neck and the world went to darkness.


	2. Interrogation

The blurry world slowly was pieced together as my eyes fluttered open to be filled with white light. Blinking, I realized I was in a mainly white room, handcuffed to a chair. In front of me was a small table and on the other side of that sat someone I didn't recognize. I did, however, recognize the symbol sewn onto the sleeve of his shirt. SHIELD. Of course.

"Ah, it finally wore off," the agent said. "Now we can start. So tell me, who are you?"

"Piss off," I muttered.

"Sorry, can't do that," he replied, his tone not changing. "At least give me something to call you."

I hesitated for a minute, debating on what to give him. "Sharpshot," I said.

"Excuse me?" The agent looked confused.

"That's what they call me: Sharpshot," I explained vaguely.

"Who is _they_?" he asked.

I looked at him with a "wouldn't-you-like-to-know" glare. "And what should I call you?"

"Agent Clump," he responded immediately.

I chuckled. "I'm sorry."

He ignored me. "So tell me, _Sharpshot_ , why did you murder Mr. Platinum?"

I shrugged the best I could with the cuffs. "Cause I got paid a pretty penny for it," I said with a yawn. Agent Clump was silent for a minute and glanced toward the "mirror" lining the wall to my right. I briefly wondered how many people were watching through the one-way-glass.

"Who paid you?"

"Customer-Mercenary Confidentiality, Agent Clump," I replied casually with a smug smile.

"Can you at least give me a name?" Agent Clump questioned pitifully.

I pondered this for a minute. It wouldn't really matter, would it? I could never go by the name Sharpshot again after this. SHIELD wouldn't link a new alias and name to me, would they? "Keira Crew," I finally said straightly.

The agent studied my face for a minute, as if determining whether I was lying or not. He finally seemed to determine I was not. "Well, Miss Crew, would you mind turning in whoever hired you to kill Mr. Platinum, seeing as they didn't fulfill their payment to you?" he said, showing me the screen of some sort of device similar to an iPad. He was right. My account was the same as before.

Before I responded, I wondered if SHIELD was tricking me. But then again, it sounded a lot like something Milner would do. "I have a rep to maintain," I responded. "Sorry."

Looking the slightest bit frustrated and a tad bit pleased, Agent Clump stood up, taking his device with him. "Thank you, Miss Crew." With that, he opened the door and walked out. I yawned and sank back in the chair as much as I could.

I wouldn't have been here in the first place if that idiot who caught me hadn't been SHIELD and so darn good at fighting. Usually, I would've used my powers to knock him right out, but then he'd report that to SHIELD and I'd be screwed. No one could know about my powers. Ever.

I sat there for twenty minutes and I was starting to get pretty bored. You can only take so much of studying a blank wall, after all. And that's when he walked in. The guy who'd caught me. My glare followed him as he came and sat across from me, but he seemed to be oblivious to it.

"Damn," he said, making me jump slightly. "Your fighting style is very complex. How long did you study for?" I just continued to give him my look, which he completely ignored, much to my irritation. "I'm sorry about the arrow, by the way," he went on. "You didn't leave me with many options."

"You could've pissed off," I said, meeting him right in the eyes. His blue eyes lit up with surprise. I understood right away. He saw me as a challenge - a puzzle to fit the pieces together.

"Well, I couldn't exactly do that when you'd just killed an innocent man," he sighed with a frown.

"Innocent man," I snorted. "Yeah right."

"He wasn't innocent?" he raised an eyebrow.

I was being very careful what I said. It was easy to let something slip when treading close to a secret topic. "Hardly. Your _Mr. Platinum_ was involved in so many business scandals, he was basically boasting it."  
"And how would you know this?"

I shrugged. "People like to talk to the girl with the pretty face."

"I'm sure," he said, obviously amused.

"So what should I call you?" I asked with a sigh.

The man's posture straightened. "Agent Barton of SHIELD."

"Well, Agent Barton of SHIELD, what information did they send you in here to get?" I asked.

"Age, who's hired you, and anything else you're willing to give," he said instantly, his tone serious.

"Twenty-eight, wouldn't you like to know, and I'm sorry, Agent Barton of SHIELD, but I don't believe it's Christmas time so I won't be giving anything," I said immediately. I was twenty-eight but I looked a lot longer. I had a baby-face, which was somewhat annoying.

"Why are you so reluctant to give up the name of who hired you? They never paid you," Agent Barton asked. "And it's not like you need to keep your 'rep' for when you get out, because SHIELD's never going to let you go."

"Because: one, SHIELD is known for trickery. For all I know, they really did pay me. Two, I am getting out of here eventually. Three, it's fun to annoy people when you have information they need."

"We're not tricking you," he argued. "We tracked down your anonymous account through some tech-genius I wouldn't know anything about. The balance hasn't changed in the past six days."

"Look, if I were to tell you," I replied, "what would I get out of it? I'd still be stuck here for a while until I figure out how to get out."

"There's such thing as a harsh penalty and a penalty," he said straightly.

I met his eyes evenly. He was infuriating to me. He wasn't annoyed by my sarcasm and I couldn't figure him out, and I took pride in being able to figure everyone out rather quickly. And what's worse, he seemed to know it too and be rather smug about it.

Scoffing, I said, "I can handle anything SHIELD can deal out."

"What about what Milner can deal out?" he asked.

I choked on air. "What?"

"We've been doing a run through of everything we know about Mr. Platinum. His old business partner, Lewis Milner seems to have the best motive _and_ is known for being a leader in a crime circle," he said smugly.

I knew I'd confirmed their suspicions by my initial reactions, so I didn't bother denying it. "Okay, it was Milner. But if y'all are going to bring him in, why should I fear him?"

"Well, he still has the crime circle."

"Yeah, well they all know not to mess with me," I scoffed.

He stood up, arms crossed. "Thank you for your cooperation."

"Yeah, right," I muttered.

On his way to the door, he turned and asked, "What's your count?"

I instantly knew what he was talking about. Kill count. "Sixty-three, give or take a dozen."

He didn't answer as he slipped out the door.


	3. Escape Plan?

**A/N: Hey guys! I didn't introduce myself before, so I will now. Hey there, I'm Abby May. This story has been floating around in my mind for a while so I thought I'd go ahead and start writing it. There will be pairings, but I'm not exactly sure what yet. Story's Rated T for language and violence. I'll try to keep these author notes to a minimum – I know they're annoying. Happy reading and don't forget to review to encourage me to keep this thing going! :D**

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Was SHIELD trying to bore me into giving them all the information or something? Because I had been sitting in that stupid chair for two hours staring at a blank wall. I was almost relieved when the door opened again, until I saw who it was that opened it. Agent Barton entered again, this time followed by a black-haired man who, although hell would freeze over before I admitted it, was rather intimidating.

"Oh great. Another guest," I sighed.

"Agent Ward of SHIELD," the newcomer said, slamming a small black case down on the table and unlatching it, while Barton strolled around the room to stand behind me. I recognized this tactic easily – the intimidation tactic. They'd already tried the friendly way twice, I supposed it made sense they moved on to the bad cop routine. The thing is – it's much easier to annoy them when they're trying to intimidate you. I could take whatever they threw at me. "This is QNB-T16," Ward went on, pulling up an odd looking thing that looked somewhat like a needle gun. "Truth serum, really. Most potent truth drug SHIELD has."

I tried not to let my breathing pattern change, as that would just let them know I was anxious. But it looked rather ominous as the agent glanced over the truth drug delivery device. If I couldn't fight the effects, I'd be utterly screwed. Everyone would want my head: SHIELD, Platinum's crime circle, the mafia…

"Effects last about an hour," he continued, his eyes leaving the needle-thingy and meeting mine with an menacing gleam. "And once you've poured your brain and heart out to us, you'll have a… nice nap."

This time I couldn't help it if my muscles tensed and my breathing pattern changed a bit. It wouldn't be very noticeable to most people, but these were rather high up SHIELD agents. They would notice. "What else do you want?" I gritted. "You already know who I am and who hired me."

"Everything," Agent Ward said simply.

"Everything?"

"Everything."

"Why can't y'all just piss off?" I grunted, shifting my position in my chair best I could.

"Well, we can't do that," Barton said from behind me. I'd nearly forgotten he was there. "But if you swear not to do anything stupid, we can take those handcuffs off."

I pondered this for a second. Maybe this wasn't just an intimidation tactic – it was the good cop, bad cop routine. Pssh. This was textbook. "That'd be nice," I replied, adding a sweet layer to my voice. If I could get my arms free, there would be a chance of getting out of there – depending on how good this Agent Ward was at combat. Wouldn't be that hard. If I could get Barton by surprise and then take Ward down and steal his card key, I could at least get out of the door and into the hallway. It was a chance.

But it seemed _someone_ could read my mind. "Don't think about trying to get out. We don't have keycards for the door – they'll only open it from the outside," Barton said as he came forward to undo the cuffs. That's creepy. And well, crap. Seems like my plan wouldn't work after all.

My wrists were very much happy to feel the air again, the handcuffs falling to the side of the chair. It was only when Ward stepped forward with the truth serum that I started to move. I rose out of my seat. It was time to devise a new plan. Improvise.

My first priority was dealing with Barton. He'd beaten me before, so he was my main concern. I delivered a well-aimed punch to his chest but it didn't slow him down one second. He went to grab me, but I ducked down, making a sweeping kick at his legs, which he easily dodged. I spun around just in time to avoid a punch thrown my way by Ward. I could tell by the way he punched that he'd been trained for combat for a while. Greaaaaat.

"Fighting is like a dance," I heard a familiar voice echo in my head. "You move first, the others move as well. Let them think you are weak and prove them wrong."

I took a nasty punch from Ward and let Agent Barton grab my shoulders harshly in an effort to contain me. But no one contained me for long. After a moment of slight struggling, I slithered out of his grip and elbowed him unforgivingly in the gut. I spun around, delivering a kick to Agent Ward, but he blocked it.

This would be so much easier with my powers. But I wasn't an idiot. I never _ever_ used my powers. Only if it's a matter of life or absolute death for me. Because I knew once one person knew that I had them, there would be no going back. I'd be hunted down and experimented on. And I wasn't a fan of that idea.

It was a struggle. Fighting two very well trained men while I still had lingering remnants of whatever they'd put in my system to knock me out wasn't at all easy. I might've been a very well trained assassin, but there's only so much one can do. But there was still a chance.

Then the door buzzed and a red-haired woman stepped in, eyes aflame. I hesitated for just a second – a fatal mistake in any fight. Agent Barton grabbed me from behind, immobilizing my arms to my sides with one arm and another arm around my throat so that I was pinned against him. His grip was not loose, but it wasn't so tight that I was gasping for air.

"Black Widow," I hissed at the woman.

"Sharpshot," she replied coolly, walking forward.

I struggled in the agent's hold, but I couldn't make him loosen it. Being pinned by one agent and there being two more trained fighters in the room, I knew I'd been beaten. Well this was a hopeless venture.

Agent Ward quickly hopped out of the ex-assassin's path as she made her way toward me. I struggled more against the unwavering grip around me and hissed (somewhat like a cat) at the woman. I utterly despised Black Widow with all my being. She'd killed my brother. He'd trained me to make me who I was. He practically raised me, to be honest. But then one mission, he was taken out by Black Widow and I was very much lucky to escape.

"Been a long time, hasn't it?" she said, her tone even, making me furious and struggle even more, though it was doing no good. It seemed Agent Barton was very aware that loosening his grip on me even just the tiniest bit would give me a chance to escape it – especially with the adrenaline rushing through my body. It was infuriating.

"I hate you," I spat. But the word was inadequate. There is no word in existence that could describe how much I hated that woman. My brother Keagan was _everything_ to me. And she'd taken that away from me so easily.

"I know," she responded, stopping so that our faces were only about six inches away. "Try to escape. Try to start a fight again. I _dare_ you. Give me a reason to be able to end you like I did your brother."

"You bitch!" I screamed, now not caring if there were tears in my eyes. I struggled helplessly in the grasp around me as Agent Ward came around the other side of the table, truth serum in hand. "What do you want to know?" I screeched, becoming an emotional mess as memories of Keagan trying to fight Black Widow came flooding back into my mind. "You wanna know all of my targets? I'll list them for you! You wanna know who all have hired me? I'll sell them out! _I'll sell them freaking out!_ I swear! JUST GET THAT BITCH AWAY FROM ME."

At that, everyone stilled. Black Widow straightened her posture and Agent Ward didn't move the truth serum any closer. But Barton's grip didn't loosen. Probably a wise choice. Because I wanted nothing more than to take that Black Widow out of this world and into the eternal fire below it.

"Well, good then," Ward said simply, tossing the truth serum onto the table carelessly. I let out a rattled breath as I realized the situation. I'd just lost. They'd used my emotions against me. They'd already known who I was – Black Widow would've recognized me - and who'd hired me. They'd wanted me to think that I knew their game and all the while they were playing an altogether different one.

As all of the pieces came together in my head, I stopped struggling and resigned myself to my fate. "Fine! Fine," I sighed, my voice coming on the verge of cracking. "I'll tell you everything. Just please… _please_ get her away from me."

"Done," Agent Ward replied as Black Widow walked calmly out of the room like nothing had just happened. I gulped, feeling the knot of emotions in my throat burn.


	4. Offer

**A/N: Hello everyone. Back with another chapter. Please make sure to leave a review to Feed the Author! Posting will slow down now, as this is the last chapter I have completely pre-written. I just wanted to get these first few out so y'all can get a feel for this story. Once I get into rhythm for this story, hopefully I'll have a posting schedule.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own the Avengers and most likely never will. I only own my original characters.**

Four hours later, I'd listed everyone who'd ever hired me and every target I ever had – at least, that I knew. Some of my clients had remained anonymous, only operating under code names. Agent Clump constructed a rigorous list of all of the names. He'd been somewhat surprised that I could remember all of those names, but I had a photographic memory. If I'd seen the name written, it would in my brain's data base.

Now I sat in the windowless room, being very bored again. They hadn't handcuffed me again, thankfully, but I had nothing else to do but slowly sip my water that they'd _graciously_ given me after agreeing to comply. It was 4:00 pm, according to the digital clock embedded into the wall. I was very nearly asleep when the stupid door buzzed open again. It was Agent Barton _again_. It seemed they thought he was the best advocate to keep me under control. But didn't this guy have anything better to do?

With a sigh, he tossed a packet of papers down on the table and sat casually across from me. "Well, this has been interesting," he said calmly. "SHIELD has an offer."

I couldn't help but scoff. "Yeah, what does SHIELD have to offer?"

"Instead of the rest of your life in a highly secured SHIELD facility, we're offering you a chance to be a free woman."

I quirked an eyebrow. "What's the catch?"

"You have to sign the rest of your life to SHIELD," he replied, gesturing to the packet of papers on the table. "Well, until you're asked to retire."

"SHIELD or prison," I said, biting my lip. "Either way, it seems very much like a prison."

"Except one of them allows you to wear normal clothes, eat good food, and continue your career without having to go outside of the law," he contended. Something flickered in his blue eyes for a split second, but I caught it.

"Is that what your options were?" I asked quietly.

He noticeably stiffened at my words. "I chose the right path. Now it's your turn."

Now I saw what was happening. SHIELD had used him as the "friend" in the interrogation because I was in the same situation as he once was. Perhaps that's why he knew what I was thinking – because he'd thought the same thing.

I pondered this for a few minutes, aware of his unwavering gaze on me. I hated SHIELD. I really did. But I didn't hate it as much as I did the thought of being a SHIELD prisoner. "On one condition," I said carefully. He waved a hand to prompt me to continue. "I don't have to wear the SHIELD logo on my uniform… I swore to Keagan that I'd never wear the SHIELD symbol."

Instead of answering to my demand, the agent quirked an eyebrow. "Why'd you promise that?" he asked. It wasn't an "interrogation" question. It was out of genuine curiosity.

I sighed, leaning back in my chair. "SHIELD killed his best friend."

"Yet, you don't seem to upset about that," he observed.

"His best friend was a jerk," I said straightly. "He wasn't to Keagan… but to me…" I trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. Whether it was mentioning Keagan or his jerk-face of a friend that made my throat hurt, I didn't know.

Barton's eyebrows wove together. "Did he ever… hurt you?" he questioned quietly. I bit my lip, trying to think of how to answer this. But I think the look on my face was enough to figure out the answer.

Instead of saying anything about the question, I just said, "So yeah, I wasn't that upset when that bastard left this good earth."

After a moment of silence, he slid the papers toward me and produced a pen from his pocket. Not saying a word, he handed it to me. I looked down at the papers apprehensively. Did I really want to do this? I clicked the pen nervously, looking back up to Agent Barton, who gave me a silent "this is the right path" look. Looking back down, I signed my life away.

Surprisingly, it didn't take long to get everything signed. I really didn't have a background so the background pages got skipped. As I started writing, Barton began to explain how this was gonna work.

"You can get a new name if you want to keep people from the past to come prying," he said. "And you'll get a new alias… you'll go through the basic training – which you should have no problem with – and you'll go through the reconditioning. When SHIELD thinks you're ready, you'll be assigned a team. STRIKE, no doubt."

I looked up, pen pausing above the fifth paper. "Will I get my choice in sniper rifles?"

He shifted slightly in his seat. "To a certain extent… it depends on what team you're assigned to." With a sigh, I returned to signing.

When I was finished, we both stood up – my legs welcoming the stretch. "Welcome to SHIELD, Miss Keira Crew," he said, stretching out his hand for a handshaking.

"Yep, definitely changing my name," I sighed, shaking his hand firmly.

"What about Miss Mouth of the South?" he suggested with a playful grin. My eyes narrowed at this sudden change from professional to teasing, but I went along with it. Keagan and I had once had the ability to switch off our "professional" mode in a blink.

"Really?" I said in a serious tone. "I was thinking more along the lines of Mary Poppins."

"That's terrifying to imagine," Barton replied with a wink.

Why did I get the feeling this guy was gonna be trouble?

"Before we walk out that door," the agent said, tone returning to serious. "Is there anything else SHIELD needs to know about you? Cause if there is, you need to tell me _now_."  
I thought about this for a second. If I told them about my powers, would they want to do experiment on me? SHIELD was known for being inhumane sometimes… no. It was a secret I could keep – even from SHIELD. I smiled tightly. "Nope."

He obviously didn't fully believe me, but he didn't press the matter any further. "Good. And just so you know, you're not going to get full trust right off the bat. SHIELD's cautious."  
"Understood," I replied briskly, refraining from biting my lip best I could. It was a horrible habit of mine that showed I was nervous. At least I was aware of it and tried to stop it, especially when I knew that this Agent Barton could already read me. "Where are we anyways?" I suddenly asked. "Is this a helicarrier?"

He cocked his head to the side. "How can you tell?"

This felt like an unspoken test. Careful with my words, I replied, "I can feel the faint vibration of the engines in the floor." I didn't tell him that I could tell because of my amplified sense of touch. While to most people, the vibrations would feel very faint, especially from this far away. But a curse of my powers was heightened sense of touch, so it very much felt like a small earthquake under my feet. However, I was used to it so I gave nothing away. I knew it would be hard to hide my powers. I never used them, but there were some side effects of it that SHIELD was bound to figure out at some point, especially with me in their ranks.

I wasn't stupid. _Keep your friends close and your enemies closer_. SHIELD seemed to live by this rule – but I did too. It was a very smart thing to do, really, as long as you didn't let your enemies get the best of you. That was a lesson I had learned once. And if Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division decided to mess with me much, they'd have to learn that too.

 **Review Response(s):**

 **CheyPaigeFanFic:** Thank you! I'm definitely hoping to keep this up. I'll be sure to add in some extra humor next time.


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